Jill Burns

Rookie (4/20/91 / United States)

Haunting History - Poem by Jill Burns

In the deepest forest of my dreams
people weap and I can hear their screams,
but this forest isn't as it seems
There is always sun,
and the children of this forest are always having fun

The trees have engravings from people who have long passed,
people who's memories sill last
And though I've read most of engravings,
the number I haven't read is vast
Near this forest is a graveyard,
One that holds a dark history for it's large valley

When walking by one of the stones,
you hear deep moans and groans,
it's two soldiers searching for their homes
You can tell they reply to each other,
when they groan in different tones
Another grave is bloodstained,
from a slave that was beaten and chained to the stone

All that remains of him is hair and bone
A memorial stands in the center of this graveyard,
one that the people of the forest work hard to guard
It represents soldiers who died for love,
it's a statue of a boy letting go of a dove,
knowing it'll be ok with help from above


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Poem Submitted: Thursday, July 19, 2007

Poem Edited: Tuesday, March 22, 2011


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